Chasing Release
by Settiai
Summary: Despite what the others thought, Merrill wasn't naïve.


Despite what the others thought, Merrill wasn't naïve.

She hadn't quite realized just how _different_ it would be, living among the shemlen and the others who called Kirkwall home. They lived their lives in ways that were completely foreign to her, even down to the simplest aspects of them.

All of her friends knew that Merrill was more likely than not to completely miss the dirty comments they made, statements that said one thing but meant another. They thought it was because she was innocent, or at least that was the impression that she had. She doubted that it had even occurred to most of them that perhaps she simply wasn't used to sex being something that needed to be hidden, even when it was only being talked about.

Life was simpler among the Dalish, in many ways. Among her clan, if you desired someone then you told them. If they were interested, then however many people were involved would slip away for a moment alone. If they weren't interested, then you turned your attention elsewhere. There were no games. There was no subtle innuendo. It was straightforward.

Sometimes she missed it.

Merrill sighed and closed her eyes as she leaned back against her bed, gently stroking the sensitive nub of flesh between her legs. It wasn't enough to push her over the edge, and she knew it, but that wasn't what she was looking for. Not today. All she wanted was to relax, to take the edge off the pressure that she was starting to feel.

It had been too long since she had climaxed. She didn't want it to come from her own hand, though, a combination of pressure and movement and perhaps a hint of magic loosed from her fingertips. That wasn't what she wanted. That wasn't what she needed.

No, for the time being, all she needed was enough of a tease to sate her for a little bit. Then she would find someone willing to share her bed for a night.

* * *

Merrill had been with both men and women quite frequently when she still lived with her clan. Sometimes she would crave curves and soft breasts, fingers and mouths and carefully carved toys chasing pleasure wherever it could be found. Other times she wanted something inside her other than wood or stone, the feel of warm flesh sliding into her as two bodies became one.

They both had their merits. Merrill knew there were those out there who were only attracted to one gender, whether it be the same as them or different. It was difficult for her to understand, though, when she saw beauty wherever she looked.

In Kirkwall, it was safer to chase release solely with women.

The herbs she had used ever since she had first started her courses were difficult to find within the city walls. She gathered them whenever she had the chance, which was usually when Hawke brought her along on trips to the Wounded Coast, but that still left her with a limited supply.

She was many things, but she wasn't foolish. A child was the last thing she needed.

Merrill suspected that she could have gone to Anders. He was a healer. He might not particularly _like_ her, but he would have helped her keep a steady supply if she'd asked.

Which was part of the reason she didn't ask. She didn't know if they would ever be friends, but if it were to happen then she didn't want to owe him. A friendship couldn't be built on debt.

So she gathered her own herbs, and she used them when she had them. But it was still safer to avoid having sex with men except for when she knew, without a doubt, that the timing was safe.

* * *

Merrill leaned in and kissed Isabela, moaning against the pirate's lips as she tasted her own juices on them. She couldn't blame Isabela for bragging about her gifts, not with what she had just demonstrated she could do with nothing but her tongue and her lips. Her entire body still rang like a bell from the aftermath of her climax.

"My turn, Kitten," Isabela purred, pressing a trail of kisses down Merrill's neck.

Merrill didn't need any prompting. She let one of her hands drift downward, playing with the downy hair between Isabela's legs for a moment or two. It still amused her sometimes how much hair humans had in such odd places on their bodies.

Then, without giving any warning, she let a tiny bit of ice spread over her fingertips and pressed it against the sensitive nub between Isabela's legs.

Isabela arched her back, a hiss of surprised pleasure flying from her mouth.

Merrill kissed her again.

Then she let a spark of electricity fly from her fingers.


End file.
